[Postmark: May 8, 1846]
‘ Look down on you ‘ — my Ba ? I would die for you,
with triumphant happiness, God knows, at a signal from
your hand ! But that, — look down, — never, though you bade
me again and again, and in such words ! I look up, —
always up, — my Ba. When I indulge in my deepest luxury, I
make you stand . . do you not know that ? I sit, and my
Ba chooses to let me sit, and stands by, — understanding all
the same how the relation really is between us, — how I would,
and do, kiss her feet, — my queen’s feet !
Do you feel for me so, my love ? I seldom dare to try
and speak to you of your love for me . . my love I am
allowed to profess . . I could not steadily (I have tried,
whether you noticed it or no, and could not,) say aloud
‘ and you love me ‘ ! Because it is altogether a blessing of
your gift, — irrespective of my love to you — however it may
go to increase it. Here are the words however. Human
conviction is weak enough, no doubt, — but, when I forget
these words, and this answer of my heart to them, — I can-
not say it —
May God bless you, dearest dearest, — my Ba ! I was
at Mrs. Jameson’s this morning — she spoke of you so as to
make my heart tremble with very delight — I never liked her
so much . . I may say, never liked her before — by com-
parison. She read me your three translations, — clearly
feeling their rare beauty ; and now, — let me clap hands, my
Ba, and ask you who knows best? She means to print
both versions — the blank verse and the latter rhymed one.
Of course, of course ! But she said so many things — I must
tell you to-morrow, — if you remind me. She felt such
gratifications, too, at your thinking her etching of St.
Cecilia worthy to hang by your chair, in your sight. Do
you know, Ba, at the end, — à propos of her breakfast, I
fairly took her by both hands, and shook them with a
cordiality which I just reflect, tardily, may subject the
Literary Character to a possible misconstruction. ‘ He
must have wanted a breakfast,’ she will say !
I am going to the Museum on Monday with her, to see
Italian prints. I like her very much. And after breakfast,
Mr. Kenyon came in, and Mr. Bezzi — and Mr. K. means to
make me go and see him next Monday also, I believe.
But my seeing, and hearing, and enjoying — Saturday is
my day for all that ? To-morrow — by this time ! — too
great happiness it is, I know.
And I, too, look long over the grave, to follow you, my
own heart’s love. Let Mrs. Jameson repeal those acts, —
limit the seven years to seven days or less, — what matters ?
If the seven days have to be endured because of a law, —
then I see the weariness of course — but in our case, if a
benevolent Legislature should inform me, now, that if I
choose, I may decline visiting you to-morrow —
. . Ah, nefandum, — kiss me, my own Ba, and let the
world legislate and decree and relieve and be otherwise
notable — so they let me be your own for ever
R.